


some velvet morning, years too late

by tangentiallly



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: F/F, Pre-Canon, mutual pining to moving on, post b&b leaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28327263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangentiallly/pseuds/tangentiallly
Summary: Kit and Beatrice eat brunch and talk about feelings of the past.
Relationships: Beatrice Baudelaire & Kit Snicket, Beatrice Baudelaire/Kit Snicket
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	some velvet morning, years too late

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I don't own ASOUE  
> title from Arctic Monkeys' song

They had brunch, in a small cafe hidden in the depth of The City that only few people knew how to find. The owner had very loose VFD connections, an acquaintance of an acquaintance of an acquaintance of Kit’s late chaperone back during the apprenticeship days. The cafe’s quiet, and there was a small, beautiful garden that made Kit forget about the city traffic.

Oh, and the soups were very good. Each and every one of them, although the tomato one was best.

Across the table, Beatrice took a sip of the coffee.

They didn’t get many chances to have brunch together, at least not as many as before Beatrice got married. She and Bertrand were distancing themselves from VFD these days, even if not completely, at least they’re doing everything more discreetly. For the children’s sake, they said. Beatrice was a mother now, had been for years, and while Kit had gotten used to the fact, sometimes she still found it unbelievable that the girl who used to wrestle Olaf in the playground, the actress who regularly stole things from Esme, was now a mother.

How time flies, Kit thought. Beatrice had been moving on in her life, artfully untangling herself from VFD, not completely cutting it off but no longer completely wrapped up in it. She had new priorities now, taking care of her two children, working her new job at the Victorious Finance District, leaving her acting career behind. Frank had called it following Poe’s footsteps while Beatrice had squawked comically and demanded him to take it back, and then he’d snidely predicted that she would probably be inviting Poe to dinner parties next and then they’d start exchanging boring stories together because he had a talent of being unintentionally hilarious, and then she’d indignantly, loudly declared that none of the stories she told would ever be boring.

That had been years ago.

Now Beatrice sat across her as she shared about the domestic activities of her household, from taking care of the children to dinner preparations to teaching Violet how to put on make-up to fake a scar and teaching Klaus to do the most boring activity in the world, fishing. And Kit realized that despite how mundane an activity was, it was never boring when Beatrice told the story. She had a talent for storytelling that never really went away, even after so many years. Unlike Poe who could take the most thrilling story and make it sound like he was just talking about filing paperworks, Beatrice’s story was never boring, and she’d been right, all those years ago, when she’d claimed that she would never tell a boring story.

Beatrice was moving on with her life, moving on from assassinations at the opera and performing on stage to convey codes and actress scandals and their youth and being at the center of VFD. And Kit - Kit was still where she was more than a decade ago, going on increasingly dangerous missions because of the schism, still fighting the enemies at the frontlines, still plotting and orchestrating different things and still excellently avoiding running into Jacques even though they both lived in the same city. At least she’d moved on from the crush on Beatrice that had felt terribly eternal at that time, that had felt like it would never pass.

It had passed, eventually. And all that she’d felt, all the yearning in her heart back then weighing so heavy that she’d thought would never leave, somehow gradually dissipated through the years. Once upon a time, every accidental finger brush would’ve made her heart skip a beat, once upon a time, Beatrice had shined like no one else had shined. Once upon a time, every little detail had felt ethereal, every laugh loud and bright and every smile secretive and mischievous. The scary thing about growing up wasn’t finding herself still stuck in those, it was finding herself no longer felt those feelings that had once been so intense and strong. It was the realization that what she’d thought would’ve been forever, even if forever had meant forever aching, was actually not forever. It was realizing that not only she’d been able to move on from what she’d once thought she couldn’t, but that she was okay with it. While yes, on the one hand she was glad she was moving on because else that sounded a bit pathetic, but on the other hand, it made her strangely nostalgic, aching in a different way, knowing that even things she’d once considered eternal would one day fade away.

Things had been going smoothly with Dewey lately, and she was happy with that. Content. Brunch with Beatrice no longer felt like wanting someone she couldn’t have, just out of reach, so close yet so forever far. Now it just felt like catching up with an old friend, slightly nostalgic but not overwhelming so. Comfortable and familiar yet not overly familiar, just the right amount. The secret about growing up that no one told her about was that she would move on, one day, even if moving on had at one point been an inconceivable, ludicrous concept. It should be a good thing, it  _ was _ a good thing, if maybe also a slightly wistful one.

Nostalgia was a funny little thing. Time and distance worked magic.

“I used to be a bit in love with you, you know,” Beatrice said, sticking her fork into another piece of chopped potato, casually dropping the bombshell in the midst of sharing the latest financial district gossip.

The tip of Kit’s spoon fell back into her tomato soup. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, properly enamoured back then,” Beatrice waved her hand easily. “It’s all in the past now, but what a time, wasn’t it? Anyway -”

“You can’t just -  _ drop _ that in the middle of the conversation,” Kit admonished.

“Ah, I can get away with nothing, with you,” Beatrice laughed. “I just thought I’d mention it in passing, you know, since it’s been so many years, and I thought, you deserved to know. Not that it’s going to change anything now, it’s been years, but I want to tell you, I guess.”

“Wow,” Kit said, “I’m - flattered? Or, I don’t know, I mean, I also used to …” she swallowed.

“I know,” Beatrice nodded sagely. “That’s why I thought you deserved to know.”

Kit took a moment to process how she felt about all this. A bit sad that they’d missed their chance, but also - not that sad either, she thought. Considered. There was, of course, the ache of what could have been, but in all honesty, it could’ve also gone terribly. At least they never had to risk that, at least she’d never lost what Lemony had lost. And Beatrice was happy now, and Kit was happy, too, so slight wistfulness, yes, but not terribly sad.

They could laugh about it now, a fond memory of the past. She was glad of that, although there’s just a slight matter to take care of. “How did you know?” Kit asked calmly. It was an important question, which would decide whether Kit needed to go have some serious conversations with Beatrice’s husband about keeping promises and secrets.

“Dewey told me,” Beatrice shrugged. 

“............. I wasn’t aware he knew,” Kit said. 

“Maybe that’s something you should talk about between yourselves,” Beatrice advised her, like some wise, old lady who understood all sorts of human nature. Kit tried picturing Beatrice in some small village, perhaps called Y. Mast Dream or something, keeping an ear out for all gossip and solving village murders, something like that. It was an amusing image.

“What were you just thinking?” Beatrice asked suspiciously.

“Just that you reminded me of someone,” Kit said with a serious face.

“Who?” Beatrice demanded eagerly. Even though a mother now, some things never changed.

Kit smiled, a little mischievous, “Just this lady. Uh, she has a nephew called Raymond.”

Beatrice narrowed her eyes. “Oh, that narrows it down,” she said sarcastically.

“Ask Bertrand,” Kit said in amusement. “He’ll know.”

Beatrice frowned, and nodded. “Alright. I’ll find out who this mysterious lady of yours is, Snicket.” She huffed, pointing a finger at her accusingly.

Kit raised her glass of orange juice in a mock salute. Beatrice rolled her eyes.

“Should we get desserts?”

“Sounds like a great idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> [come say hi on tumblr](https://beatricebidelaire.tumblr.com)


End file.
